Polaris
by Lochness Nova
Summary: If only something happened differently. If only he had ran faster, transformed into her hands, jumped in front of the fatal blow, stopped her from throwing him to safety... there would be a better end than this... (I always thought that if one died, the other would also die because they would be in resonance)


Warnings: character death and angst

_If only something happened differently. If only he had ran faster, transformed into her hands, jumped in front of the fatal blow, **stopped her from throwing him to safety**… there would be a better end than this._

* * *

His blood pumped in his ears as he ran to her side, kneeling down her crippling body. He ran his eyes over her body, looking for damage and tear, until he located the largest offender, a gaping hole through her chest, directly above her heart. His vision misted over as he placed his hands over escaping blood and threw his body weight onto the wound.

"Maka. Maka. Maka. MAKA STAY AWAKE OK. STEIN IS COMING. STAY AWAKE PLEASE OPEN YOUR EYES!" Soul screamed into the night. He rolled onto his knees and hovered over her, searching for signs of life.

Her eyes fluttered open when tears hit her cheeks. She smiled softly at the boy but she looked elsewhere to find her enemy. She spots BlackStar, ferociously slicing away at the minions of a rogue witch. She sees Kidd blasting the witch herself and she reaches out in their direction.

"I have.. to stop—"

Soul nudges her hand away with his head, "You're really something, but now's not the time."

Her eyes look back into scarlet and follows their trail to her chest. She immediately sees a sea of blood as red as his eyes and let's out a chuckle. "Doesn't even hurt."

"I know it doesn't. You're too cool for that aren't you? You're going to be ok. You're going to live and breathe and study and be better than anyone else," He sobs openly now, mixing blood and tears together.

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince. He begs and pleads her to live. He begs and sobs to the gods. He pleads to anyone and everyone listening to save his meister who tried to save him. He considers summoning the devil so he can sell his soul.

He can't sense the oni anywhere. It was supposed to promise him that everything will be ok. It was supposed to force him to give into his insanity. It was supposed to trade this red red blood for darkness, but it vanished.

The blood doesn't stop flowing through his hands. It seeps through his fingers and pools around her coat, staining the white to rose. The air was dense with the smell of iron and death. He closed his eyes and focused all his energy into calling the universe to his aid.

She was his savior. His home. His life. His guide. His clarity. His future. She was supposed to light up his life like the northern star.

Everything falls away and all he can think of is what could have happened. If only something happened differently. If only he had ran faster, transformed into her hands, jumped in front of the fatal blow, stopped her from throwing him to safety… there would be a better end than this. He would have taken back the seconds that separated them. He would have grasped her fingers in his. He would have realized that the glint in her eyes he saw would have foretold her next actions. He should have noticed the witch's claws that sharpened to spears and catapulted from her fingers. He should have been her shield and her sword. He should have been flicked across her hands and defended against the attack— but she knew that it would do damage to his physical body, that his metal would be cut and his nerves would feel fire. So his angel became his savage grace.

_Soul Resonance._

He felt her weak soul surround him, comforting and repeating that she wouldn't take that moment back for anything. She would have done this dozens and hundreds, and thousands, and trillions of times again and that it would kill her instantly if she would let him come into harm's way again.

But he refused and pulled her soul closer to him. He was supposed to be the one who put everything on the line for her. He was supposed to be the one who protected her. He was supposed to be the one who would guard her with his life.

He's physical body felt a light touch and he opened his eyes. Maka had her hands on his cheek and she brushed away the tears that left his right eye.

It should have been different. He should have silenced her tears when they flowed from their fights immediately, making more time to do what's important. He should have taken less naps and spent more time with her. He should have pulled her onto his lap more often and peppered her with kissed both of them always craved. He should have burned each and every letter and stomped the ashes to the ground. He should have written her his own. He should have composed works of art and painted her in his heart. He should have written her poetry. He should have taken her on more dates, given her all the flowers she laid eyes on, danced with her during every formal event they had to attend. He should have finished the laundry faster so they could have more time to cuddle on the couch. He should have cooked all her meals and took her on rides on his motorcycle. He should have bought her diamonds and opals and rubies and emeralds that shone as brightly as her eyes. He should have held her hand more, to hell with being cool. He should have appreciated her livelihood, cheerfulness, and fierceness. He should have pulled her into his bedroom whenever she passed by.

He should have been living a life without these dangers. He should have had another future with her, one where she was happy and safe. He should have proposed like he planned to last week. He should have gotten married to the love of his life and watched as her papa walked her down the aisle. He should have glided a ring onto her dainty finger and screamed his love for all the world to know. He should have held her head and tucked his fingers into her hair and kissed her. He should had gone through the shock of pregnancy with her. He should have had 3 children with her. He should have gone through the joys and horrors of parenthood with her. He should have been on a rocking chair with her, older and happier and together. They should have been surrounded by grandchildren and their friends' grandchildren. They should have had such a future.

And she would have had a future. She had the whole world in the palm of her hand. She could have been a doctor, a scientist, an ambassador, a judge. She should have been a professor, the president, an author, anything.

But the dying girl under him made his heart hurt. Her own tears fell and they continued to meld their souls together, but hers was slipping and fading. He took his hands off her chest and pulled her onto his lap. He touched his forehead to hers and they closed their eyes. Her hands reached for his and she twined his slick fingers with hers.

They shared her flashbacks and memories, remembering the good and the bad. They remembered every emotion and thought she ever had. And they saw what could have happened, should have happened, would have happened.

"There was still so much… Soul, I—" and finally her voice gave out, leaving her breathless as she pushed out the words so they could fall onto her lips: _I __love you._

She didn't have to say them out loud. Love rushed through the wavelength and poured into his very essence. It met with his love and it bounced back and forth in resonance. Then it grew weak and her soul was being ripped from his.

"MAKA," Soul screamed and cursed the world and shouted and fought. He spun his webs and grabbed her soul, amplifying it and binding it together with his. He sent whispers of the past and he promised tomorrow. He tried to keep her soul but it was escaping his grasp. He played his piano with compositions inspired by her. He slammed the keys and caressed each note and sent it to her. He played with a frenzy, desperate to snatch her from death.

He would have played more for her if he knew it was going to end like this. He would have bought a keyboard and played it every night for her. He would have carried it outside her window and serenaded her when she was sad. He would have let his music lift her like the angel she was. If only angels weren't trying to steal her away.

His piano ceased it's noise. He kissed her forehead and her lips.

"Don't. Don't. Please don't leave me. Don't leave me alone," he poured out his last wish and sewed their souls together.

The souls left together and floated towards Polaris.


End file.
